


A Dream

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, Hunter Retirement, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-08
Updated: 2017-02-08
Packaged: 2018-09-22 21:22:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9625817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Dean surprises Sam on his birthday with a big suggestion.





	

Sam groaned softly as Dean rolled off him. He reached out to find a shirt to clean up, too well aware of the protesting in his back as he did so.

“Getting too old for this,” He muttered. Dean laughed a little, wiping sweat from his brow as he wiggled under the covers.

“Never too old for good sex, Sammy.”

“Dude. You’re creaking.”

“I’m only forty-six.”

“Uh-huh. Want a shower?” Dean shook his head, rolling over and slinging his arm over Sam’s middle.

“Too tired.”

“Hm, that’s what I thought.”

 

They laid in a comfortable silence a long time – Dean usually fell asleep first, and that’s what Sam was waiting on, the slowing of his breath, the comforting, steady beat of his heart. Forty years. They’d made it forty years. Together. It was amazing – unbelievable, really.

Dean’s voice startled Sam out of the half sleep he’d fallen into. “Do you wanna quit?”

“Quit what?” Sam asked, rubbing his eyes.

“The job. Hunting. We’ve got younger hunters doing most of the work now – I mean we’re just… I mean we’re pretty much Bobby at this point anyway.”

Sam laughed a little. Dean wasn’t wrong, the last hunt they’d gone out on was nearly four months ago. Most of the time they just worked with the newer generation of hunters, giving them advice, bringing them in to look at the library of books in the bunker.

“We’re never gonna quit, Dean.”

“The bunker isn’t home.”

Sam looked down at his brother, blinking in confusion. Again, he had a point. The bunker was a business more than anything. Almost every room was filled with hunters passing through, needing a place to sleep or a good meal. It wasn’t home anymore. But it was where they’d been for a decade, helping people, working to create a network that would work for everyone.

“I—“

Dean sat up then and got out of bed. Sam smiled a little – even at nearly half a century old his brother was beautiful. A little slower, skin a little rougher, a little greyer at the temples – but still so beautiful. He blinked himself out of his admiration when Dean shoved a manilla folder into his face.

“What’s this?”

“Your birthday present,” Dean said, settling back onto the bed. Sam sat up and opened the folder. Inside was a stack of photos printed off a website, all showing different views of a small cabin inside and out. The location was beautiful from the photos, a hiking trail, a gorgeous view of a quiet lake, a fireplace, and a large, comfortable bedroom.

“What is this, Dean?”

“It’s a house, Sammy,” Dean said, blinking owlishly at his brother.

“I know it’s a house, Dean. I can see that. Why are you showing it to me? Is it haunted or something?”

“Nope. I went and checked it out, no deaths on or near the property, no hits on EMF or anything. Sam – It’s a house for sale.”

“Okay. And?”

Dean heaved a big sigh and grabbed the folder. He flipped to the last page and grabbed it, holding it out to Sam. On it was a price – a hundred and five thousand, and a phone number.

“Sam, I want a home. For us. This is in Manhattan. It’s only a few hours away from the bunker and it’s a great town. There’s a lot of jobs, there’s even a university – I—I wanna settle down with you. It’s time, don’t you think?”

Sam looked from the page to his brother. He smiled sympathetically. “Dean – We can’t afford this. And I know us, we’d – we’d just start hunting again.”

“Who says we can’t? Who says we can’t do both? Come on, baby brother. We deserve a life. We’re both old. We barely hunt as it is. Just—Do you like the house?”

“Dean. Come on. It’s – It’s gorgeous but, I—This is too much.”

“No, it isn’t.” Dean stood up and grabbed his wallet, pulling out a folded sheet of paper. He passed it over to Sam.

Sam sighed softly and opened it, his eyes roaming over the paper. It was a bank statement in one of Dean’s aliases. Every few weeks there had been a deposit – sometimes small, five or ten dollars, sometimes large, the highest reaching six hundred and twenty-six dollars. At the bottom of the page, the current balance made Sam’s eyes bulge. One hundred and sixty-eight thousand dollars.

“Dean, where did all this money come from?”

Dean smiled softly. “I’ve been saving for years, Sam. As much as I could. Putting it away for us. For this. For… A home for my baby brother. A real home with a nice kitchen and a front and back door and a gorgeous property. We have the money to buy this property outright and even do some repairs. If you like it, Sam… Just say the word.”

Sam felt his eyes well with tears. He looked down at the pictures again, flipping through them. He could see himself here. Dean here. Laughing on the deck – playing in the lake. He could see Dean cooking in the kitchen with those gorgeous granite countertops. The both of them using the small loft for books or a space for Cas or Max and Alicia to stay if they visited. Or other friends – they could have _civilian friends_.

He looked back up at Dean. “Yes, Dean. I love it.”

 

***

 

The house was just as gorgeous in real life as it had been in photos. It did need some repairs, but most of them Dean and Sam knew they could do themselves. The lake was only a few hundred feet away and was perfect for fishing and swimming. Sam got way too excited about the trail that ran behind the house – it was perfect for jogging.

They both decided the white walls were downright gross, and made plans to look for a new paint color.

 

Three weeks was all it took. The original owners were shocked at the cash deal, but they took it without a squabble. The first time they unlocked the door to their new home. _Home_ , Sam began to cry. He didn’t mean to; he just broke down. This was _theirs_. Their home.

Dean didn’t tease, didn’t judge. He tossed the keys onto their fireplace and kicked the door shut before wrapping Sam in his arms. They ended up on the floor in a tangle of clothes and sweat, laughing about Christening their home before they even got furniture.

 

It was two hours after that that they actually _did_ go get the furniture they’d put on hold. Not much, a bed to start, a couch and a television. Internet was a requirement, of course.

 

Sam didn’t sleep much that first night. Everything felt like a dream. Instead he got up and wandered through their new property, a full acre of grass and trees and simple beauty. Dean found him at two in the morning sitting on the shore of the lake.

 

“Dude, you’re gonna freeze to death out here.”

“Come sit with me,” Sam said softly. He could hear Dean sigh and walk toward him. One of their new, soft blankets was thrown over his shoulders before Dean sat down, groaning a little.

“Gonna have a hard time standing up, you know.”

“Quit whining. Just look.” Sam wrapped the blanket over Dean’s shoulders and curled his arm around his waist.

“What am I looking at?”

“Everything.”

Dean looked over at Sam for a second, then back over the view of the lake. The stars were glinting reflections off the water, shimmering and still save for the leaping of fish that made Dean’s fingers itch for a fishing pole. The air was cool, but not freezing, a soft breeze blowing from the west that ruffled their hair like the hands of a parent. The biggest thing that Dean noticed was calm. It was almost – peaceful out here. They were miles away from other houses, other people. It was their little slice of heaven. He could feel the weight of the past forty-two years lifting from his shoulders as he watched the shimmering silver flash of fish scales, or the yellow-white reflection of the full moon.

 

“Hey, Sam?” Dean whispered.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

Sam looked over, meeting his gaze in the moonlight. “What for?”

“Never giving up on me. Sticking with me. We’ve had a rough go of things, and I—“

“I know, Dean.” Sam reached over and squeezed his hand. “We’re brothers.”

“Helluva lot more than that, Sam.”

Sam rolled his eyes deeply. “I know. Come on old man, let’s go home.”

Dean heaved a sigh of relief. “Thank God. If I have to sit my ass on this rock another minute I may actually cry.”

Sam laughed and rose, groaning softly before helping Dean up. They began to walk slowly back toward the house. Off in the distance, a frog croaked, and Dean perked up. “Frog?”

“So?”

“Stay here.” Dean shrugged the blanket fully onto Sam’s shoulders and rushed off into the brush. Sam opened his mouth to protest.

“You’re gonna get lost!”

“Hush,” Dean called, hidden behind some of the trees. Sam squinted in the dark, hearing the rustling but unable to see Dean. There was a loud crash and Dean’s voice cut through the dark.

“Son of a bitch!” Sam laughed a little.

“Need a medic?” He asked.

“Shut up, Sam!” Dean emerged from the brush, cradling his hands close to his chest. “Look at this little guy.”

He said, stepping onto the path. Sam blinked for a few moments, not exactly sure how to react to what he was seeing. In Dean’s right hand, gripped as lightly as Sam had ever seen Dean hold something, was a fat, brown toad.

“Did you really just catch a toad, man?”

“Let me live a little Sam. He’s kinda cool, isn’t he?” Dean asked, carefully lifting him to see closer. Sam smiled softly, looking the animal over.

“Actually he is. You didn’t hurt him or anything, right?”

Dean shook his head. “Nah, he was chill. The crash you heard was me tripping over a damn tree stump.

Sam tried to bite back, but the snort escaped. “Big bad ghost hunter taken out while hunting toads?”

“Be nice or I’m gonna put the toad on your head,” Dean threatened. Sam rolled his eyes.

“We should come look for more tomorrow when it’s daytime – bet we could see ‘em better,” Sam offered. Dean’s face lit up like a child’s on Christmas.

“Really?” Sam shrugged.

“Sure. We’re retired now. Gotta find some hobbies.”

“Lemme go put him back,” Dean said, turning to make his way carefully through the brush.

“Watch out for those rabid tree stumps!” Sam cried.

“Bite me, Sam.”

“After you wash your hands I might.”

Dean emerged, wiping his hands on his jeans. “Come on.”

Together they walked up the path back to their home.

 

Dean took one last look over their property when they were at the front door. It still felt like a dream. He wasn’t sure that feeling would ever go away. He turned back to their darkened living room and saw Sam standing at the top of the stairs to their room, smiling.

“Ready for bed?”

Dean nodded. “Lemme go wash my hands.” He ducked into the kitchen that he couldn’t wait to fill with food and washed his hands before returning. Sam still waited. He held out his own hand, letting their fingers lace together naturally as they descended the steps to their room.

 

It might always feel like a dream, but he was perfectly content spending the rest of his days right here.


End file.
